4He said he wanted to change the world.
"What are you planning to do?" I asked him, ripping a blade of grass into tiny pieces and letting them drift to the ground.
"I don't know," he replied, his gray eyes moving away from the clear blue sky above us and locking with my dark brown orbs. "Something big, though. Maybe I'll bring world peace—or, at least, bring peace between Israel and Palestine. I might also be the next Bill Gates, earn enough money to start my own foundation, and spend the rest of my days deciding which places to donate to."
"That's very ambitious," I commented.
"Yeah." He continued to stare at me without blinking. I fidgeted, unnerved by his persistent gaze. "Jane? What do you want to do? Like, after we graduate and stuff?"
I sighed. I didn't want to answer him. Jason was always just too intense about everything, and I knew that anything I said would never match up to his standards. "I don't know," I finally said. "I'll probably apply to some investment banks or something."
"Jane." His voice resounded through my ears, sharp as a needle. "Do you really want to become a greedy corporate suit? Those people don't care about helping others; they just care about bringing in enough cash to fund their multimillion-dollar mansions and buy shoes with gold-encrusted soles. You're a nice person; you know you can do better than that. Why don't you start with a program like Teach for America?"
"Jason…" I drifted off. "Not everyone is brave enough like you and has goals to accomplish something big and important. I just want to live a comfortable life—have a steady income, you know?"
He narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were better than that, Jane. You're smart and hard-working, and instead of trying to pay back society for what it's given to you, you just want to be a money-grabber like everyone else."
"Jason, no!" I exclaimed. My folded hands were shaking in my lap as I looked into his gray eyes. They were like a hurricane, spinning with fury and ready to cause destruction to anything in its way—and I was the first victim. "I—I do want to help society. But most people have normal jobs. So why can't you accept the fact that I want a normal life, too?"
"Because you're not normal, Jane. You're special. You're meant for greater things than getting some stupid old job and making cash. Money shouldn't matter to you. I thought you told me that money wasn't one of your main concerns in life."
"Well, I don't want to go and starve out on the streets!" I shouted, standing up from my spot under a large oak tree. "God, Jason. Who are you to tell me what to do? You're not my mother or father. I… I thought you knew me." I was on the verge of tears.
He exhaled, his gray orbs watching me. "I thought I did too," he replied in a monotone. Then he stood up as well, grabbed his backpack that had been lounging against the tree trunk, and walked away. I didn't follow him.
That was the last time I saw him.
"Jane?"
I looked up from my computer screen and smiled when I saw my co-worker and friend, Melanie, leaning against the doorframe of my office.
"Hey," I greeted. "Are you leaving for the day?"
"Yeah—I'm going to the bar with the rest of our team. Are you coming this week?"
"I'm too tired," I replied with a regretful smile. "I have to get up early tomorrow for my shift at the library."
"Jane," Melanie groaned. "You say that every week. Can't you just ditch your volunteer work for once and join us? We all miss you—especially Mark." She followed his name with a wink.
I sighed. Our current conversation was a weekly ritual. Melanie would beg me to join her and the rest of my colleagues for Happy Hour at the local bar, and I would decline. Mark, one of my co-workers who had been steadily pursuing me for months, was often mentioned in our talk. It wasn't that I was boring. I knew how to have fun. But I had been volunteering at the library on the weekends for more than two years. I felt a duty to give back to the world, and because I loved books, I had showed up to the New York Public Library front desk and asked if they needed any help. I loved working there, even if I did spend much of my time shelving books or performing some other tedious task. But I knew my way around that huge, multi-tiered building like nobody's business, which was why many of the other workers sent readers to me in order to recommend books.
Even though I loved my volunteer job, I knew the real reason why I showed up at eight o'clock in the morning on Saturday and Sunday of every week to work without pay. I hadn't seen Jason Iverson for five years, but he was, in a way, always with me, and always in my world. But I was exhausted of life. I was twenty-seven years old, with a well-paying occupation as a financial consultant, a homey apartment, great friends, caring family members close by… and yet, I was already viewing my future with old soul eyes. My schedule was the same every day—go to work, come home, read, surf the Internet, and go to bed, with meals and showers in between. Perhaps Melanie was right—I did need a change.
"All right," I finally conceded. "I'll go out tonight."
Melanie let out a squeal that resembled that of an overly enthusiastic middle school girl. "I knew you'd cave one day! Oh, Jane, you have just made my night!"
"I'm glad you're happy about it," I said wryly. "Are we leaving straight for Marcie's?"
"Yeah. We aren't going to don any party clothes or anything. The atmosphere is pretty chill there—good for just conversation, you know?"
I nodded. "I'm ready."
"Let's go then." Melanie hooked her arm around mine, and we exited my office.
A blast of cold air slapped my face as we left the building. Christmas was in less than two weeks, and the city was adorned with brightly colored rainbow lights and wreaths. Melanie and I did a bit of window-shopping during our walk to the bar, and I stopped to a halt when I saw a gorgeous tan-colored wool coat in the display of Burberry. Melanie furrowed her brow but then smiled when she noticed the object that had me mesmerized.
"It's gorgeous," she said. "Why don't you splurge a bit and buy yourself that coat this year?"
"I don't know," I said, frowning. "I don't want to buy things that I don't need. The economy hasn't been that great lately, and I want to be prepared for the worst case scenario."
Melanie snorted. "You need to let loose, girl. We haven't reached the big three-oh yet—why not let yourself relax and have some fun? Anyway, we're here." She gestured toward the "Marcie's Bar" sign, decorated with yellow lights and sprigs of holly. I followed her, wondering if it what she had said was true—was I already going through a mid-life crisis? I didn't even have kids, for God's sake.
Yes, I was definitely going to let my hair down tonight. Perhaps I would even indulge in some of Mark's obvious infatuation, although it would be cruel of me to lead him on.
We entered the bar and were immediately greeted with loud shouts.
"Melanie, you're a miracle worker," said Dan with a grin. He was perched on a stool in the midst of a group of people from the office. "You finally managed to drag Jane to our humble get-together."
"Jane is too busy doing good deeds, so I figured she needed a break," said Melanie smoothly, seating herself beside him. I found the relationship between her and Dan very complex. I couldn't figure out if they had one of those "friends-with-benefits" deals or if they were actually dating. On some days, they would be making out like teenagers in the break room, and other days, they would be speaking to each other with two feet of distance between them, even when no one else was around.
"Ah, the library, right?" said Mark as I slid into the only seat left beside him. I had a feeling that I was being set up.
"Yes," I replied with a smile. "I volunteer every Saturday and Sunday for eight hours."
He whistled. "Gee whiz. Do you ever have time for yourself?"
I shrugged. "I only read during my spare time and do a bit of writing—so it doesn't really matter if I don't have that much free time."
"Well, I'm glad that you're such a do-gooder," said Mark, sliding an arm around me. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be the Jane we all know and love."
I forced a smile but didn't bother shrugging off his grasp. I was already accustomed to his touchy-feely behavior and syrupy compliments. I liked Mark. He was one of those clean-cut, nice guys—the boy-next-door type, so to speak. I never found his actions creepy, even though I probably should have. His actions mirrored those of a hormone-driven teenage boy in "love", rather than those of a sketchy rapist. But I knew that I would never think of him in a romantic fashion. Mark was only a friend, and so were most of the men that I had dated during one point in my life. For some reason, none of them felt right to me. Every time I had a serious boyfriend, I tried to imagine the two of us as a married couple—and I would fail. The next day, I would break off our relationship. Had I been cruel, treating my relationships as though they were car test-runs—finding a potential car, driving it, and then realizing that they didn't "feel" right? I didn't know. But I was quite certain that my heart had already been lost years before those men had appeared in my life.
"So," said Emma, a cute blonde with corkscrew curls, from beside Dan, "what's everyone doing for the holidays?"
The next hour consisted of all of us talking about various Christmas parties (except for Mark, as he was Jewish—he did, however, inform us of his family's drunken Hanukkah gatherings) and recounting hilarious stories of past holiday activities. Apparently, after turning twenty-one right on Christmas Eve, Dan had gotten into a drunken stupor and fallen into the well of his family's home in Nebraska. Melanie had surreptitiously recorded the story on her cell phone for future blackmail.
"You are so evil," Dan whined. "Mel, as my girlfriend, you have no right to be so mean to me!"
Ah… so they were dating. And also acting like five-year-olds as well, but that was hardly surprising. I couldn't help but laugh at their antics—and at the entire situation. I was sitting in a bar with my friends, and not once did I worry about how I would mold myself into a better person by performing services for the community. I was simply being me, for once—an old shell of my former college self, before…well, I didn't want to think about anything negative tonight. For once, I would think about me, and how I would have fun and make myself happy.
A loud clatter interrupted the lively chattering in the atmosphere, and we all turned towards the door where a man had just fallen through. He stood up hastily, and his eyes were large and bloodshot. I shuddered, and Mark tightened his grip on my waist.
The man stumbled toward us and plopped down on a stool at the corner. He slumped forward and yelled at the bartender, "Hey, man, hit me with some whisky!"
The bartender frowned and approached the man slowly. "Sir, I believe you've had quite enough for tonight."
"I haven't! Please, just—just let me be free." He lifted up his head, his eyes searching across the room until they met mine. They were gray—and I nearly stopped breathing.
It was Jason, and it wasn't. His brown hair was a mess, and his face was etched with wrinkles and worry lines. And yet… those eyes. They were still stormy and tumultuous, but, unlike the last time she saw them, they held no anger. Instead, when I continued to look at him, watch him, I felt a deep, overwhelming sense of sadness wash over my limbs. He didn't look like he was going to save the world. He looked like he needed saving himself.
"Hey." He pointed at me, squinting. "I know you."
My colleagues all turned to me, gaping. Mark snorted and placed his hand on mine. "I think you've got the wrong person, buddy."
Jason rolled his eyes. "I know her, stupid. I've probably known her longer than you. Jane Davenport, right?"
I nodded. It was definitely Jason. "Hi, Jason. Long time no see."
"Janie, it's all my fault!" he cried, startling me. "I never called you after we graduated. And—and I promised that I would! Janie, Jane, you hate me, don't you?"
I shook my head, still in a daze. I couldn't believe that Jason Iverson was in front of me now after these years. "I don't hate you, Jason. It's okay. I know you had a job to do."
"I did. And it sucked. I'm no Superman, Janie. I'm a failure."
"I—" I looked around at Melanie, Mark, Emma, and Dan, who were staring at our conversation with raised eyebrows. "Jason, I think you need to go home," I told him quietly. "You're drunk."
"I am, aren't I?" He laughed, harsh vibrations clamoring against my ears. "I don't want to go home, Janie. I… I don't have a home…" He drifted off, his head resting on his arms, and his eyes began to close. Soon, he was snoring softly, his head peeking out from his forearms.
"Who the hell is that?" said Dan, his eyes wide. "You know this guy, Jane?"
"Jason." I nodded in confirmation. "We—we were good friends in college."
"Wait," said Melanie, leaning toward me, "is this Jason. The Jason? Asshole Jason who freaking broke your heart?"
"He didn't break my heart," I protested, hoping that my face hadn't turned red. "I was just upset when he never contacted me, that's all. Look, it's all in the past, so let's not talk about this, okay? I should get him home—he doesn't look like he's in shape to do anything right now."
"He doesn't look like he can tell you where he lives," remarked Dan, peering closely at Jason's sleeping form.
"I can't just leave him like this…"
"Yes, you can," interrupted Melanie firmly. "Just like he did to you before. An eye for an eye, right?"
I didn't answer her. I simply watched him. We weren't friends anymore. I had no obligation to him. And yet… he seemed so helpless, so different from the confident, quick-witted Jason I had known in college. I couldn't forget how he had rejected me and walked out of my life after that fateful day. But maybe he was no longer that boy anymore—maybe he did need someone this time.
"I'll take him back to my place," I decided. Seeing the horror on everyone's faces, I added, "He's not going to hurt me. I know him very well. And it's Christmas, so I ought to do something nice."
"Just be careful," said Melanie, putting her hand on my arm. She bit her lip and sighed. "You're too nice, Jane. But if he tries anything, you call me, all right? We live close enough to each other that I'd still have time to beat him up with my brother's old baseball bat."
I smiled and wrapped my arms around her in a fierce embrace. "Thanks, Mel. Don't worry about me—I'll be fine. I'll call you tomorrow, all right?"
Mark stood up and walked beside me. "Jane, this doesn't…seem right," he finished rather lamely.
I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"He's practically a stray!"
For the past month, I thought myself very tolerant of Mark's tendency to cling and act possessive, but this was the final straw. Even though Jason and I clearly had issues that we needed to resolve, he had been my best friend and confidante in college when I had sorely missed my high school friends. I knew that I would feel guilty for a long time if I simply let him to rot in a bar in the middle of New York City.
"Jason isn't a stray," I said, glaring at Mark. "He was my friend, and he's in desperate need of help. Now, if you excuse me, I need to do some saving right now." With that, I grabbed Jason's arm and whispered in his ear. "Jason? Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."
"Just find me a hotel or something," he mumbled.
"No, that won't do. Look at you; you're piss drunk, for God's sake. I'll take you to my place and you can rest, all right? We can talk in the morning. Do you think you can get up so we can get a cab and leave this joint?"
He nodded, and I hooked his arm through mine and half-dragged him out the door and into the biting frost of the night. I hailed a cab and pushed him into the car. With a sigh, I slid into the seat opposite him and gave directions to the driver. Jason gave a loud snort, and I noticed he had fallen asleep again.
What was I doing? I, admittedly, was a nice person, but I was careful. I didn't just take random people and let them stay in my apartment. I was definitely not one of those one-night-stand people who had sex with strangers at unknown places. I was practical. I was predictable. I was most likely boring to many people my age as well, but what did I care? I had a nice life, even if I did know that something was missing in it.
As I watched Jason's eyelashes flutter against his cheek, though, I knew why I had stood up to my friends and decided to bring him back to my home. Sometime between meeting him during freshmen orientation and the day when we stopped talking to each other, during our junior year, I began to view Jason as more than just the best guy friend who occasionally was willing to watch cheesy romantic flicks with me. He became…more important to me. Was it love? I wasn't sure. But it damn well wasn't just plain friendship.
The cab pulled right in front of my apartment complex, and I sighed. Jason was completely smashed, so at least I wouldn't have to deal with this blast from the past until the next day. I paid the driver and murmured to Jason, "Come on, Jas, let's go."
He rubbed his eyes and watched me with bleary eyes. "Go where, Jane?"
"We're going back to my apartment and you're going to sleep off some of that alcohol, okay?"
He nodded and followed me out of the cab and into the building. As soon as the elevator reached my floor, he rushed out and stared at me as I stepped out as well. "What is it?" I asked, my cheeks growing warm at his steady gaze.
"Why are you being so nice to me, Jane? After I was such a… such a…" He struggled to continue as he began shaking.
"Jason, let's get you inside," I urged. I grabbed his hand and guided him toward my door. Digging out my key, I shoved it into the opening above the doorknob and pushed the door open. I turned on the lights and gently pushed Jason to the couch.
"I'm tired, Janie," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"I'm sure you are," I agreed, offering him one of my warm fleece blankets. "Are you comfortable, Jason?"
"Mm, I'm cozy. Hey, Jane?"
"Yes?"
"Can you sleep next to me tonight?"
I stopped fussing over the blankets and pillows in my arms and looked over at him. Although he looked flushed and tired, his eyes were still wide open and watching me. Good God—those eyes of his would convince me to commit murder, I was sure.
"Jason, I'm not sure if that's such a good idea," I said with a sigh. "If you're cold, I'll get some more blankets for you, all right?"
He didn't reply. He was already fast asleep. It was very odd, how he would be so conscious one moment and be out the next. However, I was relieved, as I had no desire to share a bed with him. Who knew what sort of dreams I'd be having. I placed another blanket on his body and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Despite his premature creases, I still recognized the old Jason from college in that face. He still had the slightly squashed nose, the long eyelashes, and the plump, pink lips. I flushed when I realized I had been staring at his mouth for quite some time. I clearly needed some sleep as well.
I headed into my bedroom and slipped out of my wrinkled work clothes and into my pajamas. I had planned to think about what I would say to Jason the following day, but found my eyelids slipping down and preventing me from forming any more coherent thoughts.
I awoke to the sound of banging from outside my room. Blinking, I pushed my door open and found Jason in the kitchen cracking eggs. All the events from the previous night flooded through my mind, and for a second or so, I almost stopped breathing. I had no idea how to approach him; he was practically a stranger to me now. However, I was saved from contemplating my next move when Jason turned around and saw me hovering at the entrance.
"Jane," he said, his lips barely moving. "I…um… I hope I didn't wake you up. I was just making breakfast."
I nodded and approached him slowly until I was about a foot away. "How did you sleep last night?"
"Wonderfully," he replied.
We stood in silence after his one-word answer. He scratched the back of his head, clearly feeling as awkward as I did. I debated whether it would be best for him to speak first or for me to start the inevitable conversation: "What the hell happened to you?"
"I'm sorry," he began, after a few more moments of quietude, "for everything. I… I can't change what I said to you in college, Jane. I was stupid, arrogant, and stubborn. And now look at me." He gestured toward his wrinkled shirt and soiled pants.
"Jason," I said, placing my hand on his arm, "it's okay. The past is the past. But…" I hesitated at my next words. "What are you doing here? I heard from people that you went to California."
"I did. I went to law school and tried to get into politics after that. But I screwed up, Janie. I realized something."
My life was beginning to resemble a soap opera. All of this seemed so dramatic and over-the-top. When had life become this complicated and emotional? I had been living simply for as long as I could remember—that was, until I met Jason. He taught me to feel and to challenge like no other person had ever done before. And when he left my life… well, I had fallen back into my old habit of keeping as little tension and unnecessary drama in my life as possible.
"What did you realize?" I prodded him gently.
"I'm a failure," he announced bluntly. "I'm a failure and a fucking hypocrite. I wanted to change the world, Jane, and I tried to do that by being a politician. Do you know how two-timing politicians are? All they care about is getting their lifelong pension and watching their stupid legislation proposals hurt innocent citizens. God. I was about to become one of them. I was running for senator, did you know that? I had a lot of supporters, too. But all I did was spew out bullshit and everyone just lapped it up. I just—I felt so guilty and couldn't take it anymore. I dropped out of the race and came here, because… well, because I knew you'd be here."
I opened my mouth but found myself unable to utter a single syllable aloud. Jason Iverson—the boy who knew everything, who had a plan and a drive stronger than anyone I had ever known—was falling apart before my eyes. What was I supposed to say? A simple "I'm sorry" sounded too cold and distant.
"Jason," I said, taking his hand into mine and feeling warmth underneath his fingertips. It was still difficult for me to grasp the fact that he was actually here, in New York City, in my apartment. A part of me suspected that this was all a dream. Here we were, speaking like civilized people despite the blowout that had torn us apart in the past. "Why are you here? I mean, why did you come and see me, of all people? We didn't exactly part on good terms, you know."
"I know," he said, running a hand through his unruly locks and frowning at me. "I'm a stupid fool, but I thought that maybe you'd be able to help me."
"Help you?" I couldn't keep prevent the bitterness that was seeping into my voice. "How would I do that? We don't really know each other, remember?"
He winced, apparently recalling the words he had thrown at me before we had departed from each other's lives. "You look happy," he said softly. "How do you become content with your life?"
Happy? He thought I was happy? Well, maybe I was. I was satisfied, certainly, with my life—but was I truly drinking in the joy of every precious moment? I didn't think so. I still harbored a gnawing emptiness at times when I was alone. I told my friends about my feelings, but they simply told me that I needed to find a man. Ridiculous—as if having someone by my side at night could solve all my problems.
"I'm not really happy," I allowed, "but I find volunteering at the library a very relaxing activity. I guess you can call it a hobby of sorts that I've developed since moving here."
"Volunteering?" Jason tilted his head to one side. "Well, I guess that's not much of a surprise, since you've always loved to do community service projects in school."
"But it makes me happy, Jason. You need to find something that makes you happy and do it. Now, my regular job is okay—it pays the bills, you know? But on the weekends, I let myself ease up on my responsibilities and be myself. And I feel the most home at the library, since I pretty much live and breathe books."
He chuckled at my last remark but sobered up almost immediately. "So, I should just get a job that I like, even if it means that I'd have to starve out on the streets?"
I wanted to slap my forehead at his inability to grasp what I was saying. My patience, I believed, was wearing down with every year I aged. "Jason, get any job that helps you survive, whether it means working in a damn cubicle or flying around on airplanes all day. Then find something to do on the weekends that'll make all that crap you put up with during the workdays worth it. Now, I don't recommend that you get piss drunk or indulge in unhealthy activities. Do something like… I don't know, running. You always did love to run during ungodly hours of the morning."
"True," he confirmed, "but I still want to help people. But this time, I want to be genuine about my ideals."
"Well, if you still like sports, there's a kid's sports club that always accepts volunteers," I offered. "It's on West 34th—"
"A sports club!" he interrupted, his gray orbs wide and astounded, as if he had just discovered the cure for cancer. "That's so fucking brilliant! Jane, you're like my savior. I need to go right now!" He was speed walking toward my door, and I followed him, attempting to match his rapid pace.
"I haven't even finished telling you the address!" I exclaimed. His behavior was puzzling. About half an hour ago, he had a down-in-the-dumps look on his face, and now he was as hyper and excited as the pink Energizer bunny.
"Don't worry, I'll Google it! I'll call you soon, Janie, but I really gotta do this, all right?" With that, he placed a swift kiss on my cheek and went out the door.
I felt rooted on the spot where I stood. This blast from the past business was no joke. And yet, Jason, as always, was able to appear and disappear from my life within a flash of a second—ephemeral, yet everlasting. Because no matter how little time he stayed in my life, he was always able to have a particular effect on me. My body was warm all over, despite the fact that the temperature in my apartment was only set to sixty degrees Fahrenheit. One specific place where I felt a slight burn was on my right cheek, where Jason had placed his cold lips only a few minutes ago. It was funny, how his coolest touch could send fire running through my veins. I was vaguely reminded of that Carrie Underwood song: I tell myself I'm in too deep / Then I fall a little farther / Every time you look at me.
If Jason had looked at me now, I was sure I would turn into a blubbering mess. Damn it. He still had that same power over me as he did five years ago. I was in trouble.
"This is deep shit, man," said Melanie, shaking her head from her cubicle. I glanced from my computer screen and looked directly ahead at her. Our cubicles were directly across from each other, which was partially why we had become close friends.
"What?"
"You are still infatuated with that idiot. Really, Jane, I love you and all, but you have terrible taste in men. I feel like he's just using you."
I frowned. "I wouldn't let him do that. I just helped him out for one night, that's all."
"Honey, he comes and goes as he pleases. If he really cared about you—or anyone, for the matter—would he just be off and running whenever he feels like it? The guy has got to grow up. Now, I don't personally know him, but from what you've told me, he just sounds like a selfish bastard. Changing the world and helping people… yeah, right. You're much better off without him."
"I probably am," I agreed, "but I can't deny him anything, and it scares the hell out of me."
"Of course it does—which is why I have a plan."
"Oh, dear." Melanie's plans always foreshadowed some sort of doomsday event. She was most likely going to set me up with a guy. The last time I followed her plan, I ended up having red wine stains on my white dress and had to escort my date to the hospital because he broke his leg from tripping over a rock. "You always set me up on the worst dates, Mel. And what does this have to do with Jason anyway?"
"Well, there's no use waiting for that idiot to open his eyes, so you need to find a new boy-toy to occupy yourself with. Boy, have I got the perfect one for you." She grinned. "Luke Weston—a good man, in my completely unbiased opinion."
"Your brother?" I gawked at her.
"He's single, you're single, why not? Oh come on, don't give me that look. I know nothing serious will come out of this, since Luke hasn't been out since his stupid girlfriend broke up with him a few weeks ago. And you, apparently, will never get over Jason. But it doesn't hurt to try, right? Besides, you know Luke, so your date won't turn out to be a disaster like the last one."
"I hope this isn't one of those clichéd ploys where I'm supposed to make Jason jealous."
"It's not—this is what I call having fun and keeping in mind that there are better men than Jason out there."
I sighed. Arguing with Melanie would prove futile. "I guess."
"Great! Now, we need to find you a cute dress to go with those fabulous black heels you have—"
For the next few days, Jason didn't attempt to contact me. I wasn't surprised, though. Like Melanie had said, disappearing abruptly was how he lived his life. What was unexpected, though, was the fact that I didn't feel heartbroken and have the urge to consume gallons of ice cream and other unhealthy foods. Jason would always be Jason, and although I did care for him deeply on some level, he needed to find his own life before he could settle himself into mine.
Thus, I found myself in a bar on a Saturday night with Melanie's brother beside me. He was a great guy—genuine, nice, and good-looking in a Ralph Lauren model sort of way—but I wasn't romantically interested in him. Instead, I found myself listening to his woes about his latest breakup.
"How do women work, Jane?" he asked me, sipping at his drink. "I mean, Ashley just up and left me, with some lame excuse about how she felt more chemistry with this other guy. This really doesn't do good for my ego, you know."
"Women are fickle creatures," I said, my eyes roaming to the people on the dance floor. "Did you love her?"
"I'm not sure." He frowned. "I guess not. I'm just pissed because I can never get a relationship right. I must be a horrible boyfriend if so many of my girlfriends have walked out on me."
"Nah." I shook my head, trying to muster a sympathetic expression. "You're a great guy, Luke. You just have to find the right girl for you. I'm sure you're the perfect gentleman to every girl you've dated."
"I am, and that's what sucks." He groaned. "I think girls like that whole mysterious bad boy deal, and I'm just the stupid boring guy they turn to so that their parents would be pleased."
"Well, if it's any consolation to you, I don't like mysterious bad boys," I offered.
He gave me a lopsided grin and placed his hand over mine. "Thanks, Jane. You're great too, you know. But I know you're only here because of Mel. She thinks I'm moping over Ashley—which I am not, by the way. I'm just pissed about my failed relationships in general."
I shrugged. "Well, apparently, I need to get out more and go on dates. And tonight's been fun, especially with our heart-to-heart talk. Besides, you may be Mel's brother, but you're my friend as well, so it's not like I resent spending time with you."
"Well, I don't know about you, but I want out of this place."
"Let's watch movies at my place," I said, remembering what Melanie had instructed me to do after we got bored of the bar. "We have a late-night date with Hugh Grant and Ryan Reynolds."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Chick flicks? Mel put you up to this, didn't she?"
"Of course she did. Now, are you in or out?"
Luke's eyes drifted toward the ceiling for a few seconds before meeting mine. "I'm in," he replied with a sigh. "But you cannot squeal every time these stupid men do their 'sexy look', or whatever Mel calls it."
I laughed and grabbed his hand, leading him to the exit. With Luke, there were no sparks or chemistry involved; only simple, childlike emotions existed, as his warm fingers grasped mine tightly when we braved the cold weather. Thankfully, we had chosen a place that was only a block away from my apartment.
"So, what movies are we going to watch?" asked Luke, screwing his face into a grimace as we waited for the elevator.
"Love Actually, as it's almost Christmas," I began, growing excited at the prospect of huddling into my couch with hot chocolate, "and Bridget Jones's Diary because, you've got to admit, it's pretty hilarious."
"It's all right," he said gruffly, but I knew that he was only bluffing. Luke secretly enjoyed watching romantic comedy flicks as much as I did. He just didn't think it would be "manly" enough to admit such things. However, when we approached my number at the end of the hallway, I noticed a figure sitting right outside my door. Luke slipped an arm around my waist and tightened his grip. "Who the hell is that?" he whispered into my ear.
I shrugged. "I don't know—but don't worry, I've got pepper spray on me in case he tries to make a move."
The person, apparently having heard our whispers and footsteps, looked up. It was Jason, and his lips were set in a firm line. Oh dear—he looked pissed.
"Jason," I greeted cautiously. I knew that his temper might flare up at any moment. "How are you?"
"I was waiting for you so I can update you on my life, but clearly you've been busy." He eyed Luke's arm, which was still wrapped around my middle.
"I'll leave you two to talk then," said Luke, looking puzzled and shooting me a "we-definitely-need-to-discuss-this-later-in-great-detail" look. He gave me a hug. "Bye, Jane. See you next week, then?"
I nodded, still stunned that Jason was at my door. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. But how is everything?"
He didn't seem to hear my question. "Was that your boyfriend?"
"Luke?" I snorted. "No. He's my friend's older brother. He's practically my brother too, now that I think about it. We were just getting some drinks and talking. He had bad breakup recently, and we were just heading here to watch movies."
"Oh." He removed his arms, which were crossed over his chest, and let them hang to his sides. "I'm sorry that I ruined your night." His voice was quieter, and I was confused about his behavior change.
"It's fine." I waved him off and unlocked the door. "Come on in. I want to hear about this exciting news of yours."
"It's not much." He settled down on my couch, and I sat beside him, although not too close. I was still unsure of our relationship at that point. "I am volunteering at that kid's place near my apartment. It's been going great so far. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I wasn't sure…" He hesitated.
"What?"
"Well, I wasn't sure if you wanted me to be your friend again, Janie. I've been a terrible person. Plus, I got way too excited last week and left without leaving a number or anything."
I rolled my eyes. "It's the way you operate—I'm already used to it. And I'd like for us to be friends again. Of course, we wouldn't be able to jump right into the same place we were at seven years ago, when we were actually friends instead of two ignoring each other."
"Stop being so nice. Tell me what you think of me—the truth."
My mouth felt dry. "What do you mean?"
Jason exhaled deeply, a soft hiss escaping his lips. "You've let me off way too easily, Jane. And I get that, because you're nice. But you need to tell me what you've thought of me all these years, starting from that day during sophomore year when I just completely walked out of your life."
The truth. He wanted raw emotions, my real feelings. Well, if that's what he wanted to hear… I had no qualms about baring my soul to him. I needed to let out some of my pent-up anger anyway.
"Well, at first, I actually thought you were right," I said, looking directly into his eyes. "I figured that maybe I was selfish and I should do something useful for the world instead of just taking the easy way out and making a load of money. But then, after having discussions with my parents and friends, I realized that I could help the world with my career path. Sure, people think those of us in the financial industry are corrupt and greedy, but we aren't. We're just normal people with an interest in building up businesses—and those of us who are morally upright and caring donate some of our income to worthy charities. I always, for instance, give money to cancer research centers. Then I began to resent you and wouldn't look you in the eye for the last two years of school. I thought you were being stupid and stubborn."
"And now?" He didn't respond any further. His eyes were boring into mine, intent on listening to the rest of what I had to say.
I took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for the next step. I only hoped that I wouldn't scare him away. I didn't want him to leave again.
"You want to start your life over again, Jason, and I admire and support you for that. I stopped feeling anger toward you ever since I began volunteering at the library. You've always been passionate and just let your ideals come in the way of some common sense. That's why I didn't have much trouble forgiving you. We all make mistakes, and you've clearly learned that what you thought was a noble career path didn't turn out to be very pure. Besides, your conversation about changing the world made me think. And you did change the world, you know, despite what you think."
"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "How?"
I smiled. "You changed my world." And it was true. Without Jason, I wouldn't have bothered to volunteer and tried to bring some joy into the lives of others. I wouldn't have realized that sharing my love for books with others gave me a type of contentment that even the highest-paying job wouldn't be able to bring.
He didn't say anything after my statement. Instead, he drew me into his arms and held me close, his face buried in my brown curls. His tender gesture was an indication of his apology; I needed no words from him. We cuddled on my couch for what seemed like hours until Jason finally stood up and murmured, "I have go to now, Jane."
I nodded, yawning, and walked him to the door. Before he went out, though, he placed a swift kiss on my cheek and smiled. Thankfully, it was dark, or else he would've seen the blush that was definitely creeping up onto my face. I watched him turn the corner, my hand lightly touching the spot where he had placed his lips.
For the next few days, Jason and I spent a good deal of time together, catching up on each other's lives. It made my heart swell with joy to know that he barely changed from the lanky college boy I had once known. Of course, our relationship was hardly the same from what it had been; after all, we were both adults now. But something was changing between us, and I wasn't sure if it was all that bad either.
"I have a surprise for you," he announced one Saturday morning, right after I opened the door with bleary eyes.
"It's early," I complained. "I just woke up."
"Well, the early bird gets the worm, as they say. And damn, this is going to be one worm that you'll definitely love."
"I don't eat slimy annelids, thank you very much."
"Ha, ha. Funny. Clearly, you haven't forgotten high school biology class." Jason stepped inside and promptly covered a cloth over my eyes.
"Hey! What gives?"
"It's a surprise, Jane. I'll take off the blindfold once we get there."
"You know I hate surprises."
He chuckled. "I'm glad some things don't change. You hate surprises so much that you need to read the back of every book before you even begin it to make sure that the ending is to your satisfaction."
I grinned. "So I like the happily-ever-after part. Big deal. Lots of girls do."
"Ah, but you aren't just any girl."
I attempted to stay calm and collected, while replying in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner, "Oh?"
"Nope. You're my girl—the best one in my life, besides my mother and sisters."
Oh, for crying out loud. Did he want to torture me? Every sugary-sweet comment he made would compel me to fall harder and faster for him. I wasn't sure how long I could maintain my cool-headed façade before I crack and reveal my long-harbored secret to him.
"Flattery gets you nowhere," I informed him, hoping that my voice was not shaking too much.
"Well, at this point, you're going nowhere either—not without my help," he retorted. I was certain that his trademark smirk was in place—his lips curled upwards, the dimple on his left cheek winking at me.
"Lead the way," I said with a sigh. Once Jason got a hold of an idea, he was adamant about carrying it out. I led him lead me until we were outside my apartment. He was silent, and I began to fidget. Not before long, though, I found myself being shoved into a car and heard a door slam.
"Are you kidnapping this poor girly or what?" I heard a rough voice shout.
"No, I'm taking her to a surprise place," Jason replied smoothly.
"And I'm supposed to believe you, kid? This is New York City, where people get murdered on the street. Now, I have every right to call the damn police—"
"If you must know," interrupted Jason hastily, "I'm taking her to her favorite café and was about to propose to her. Now, sir, are you happy that you've ruined the surprise for my girl?"
Sputters were coming from who I assumed was the cab driver. I found myself trembling at Jason's words. Even though I knew that a proposal from him was far from the truth, I felt almost giddy that Jason would even consider me a potential fiancée. All right, the whole thing was for show so that the cab driver wouldn't send him off to prison, but still. Jane Iverson—it did have a nice ring to it. Not that I was in love with him or anything. I still wasn't sure if we were quite friends yet.
"I apologize, miss," the cab driver said, his voice resembling those little animal characters from Bambi. "I didn't mean to ruin the big surprise. I was looking out for you."
"It's all right," I reassured him, "but now that I know the surprise, I guess I'll just have to say 'yes' right now."
"Oh, Lord, a proposal right in my humble little cab!" the driver cried. "I've never been so honored in my life."
"Neither have I," Jason said, and before I could come up with a further response, something soft touched my lips. I could hear Jason whisper in my ear, "Just play along." Then he deepened the kiss. I was kissing Jason Iverson, one of my best friends in college who had ditched me to seek out his dreams, thinking that I was a burden and didn't understand him. He was also the one who sought me out after these past few years and wanted me back in his life. Because I was always a fool when it came to him, I accepted him back. And now he was kissing me. The world was a funny place. I must've been Gandhi in some alternate universe, because damn, this was the best kiss I'd ever received.
Sadly, it ended, and I endured the rest of the ride listening to the cab driver ramble on about his numerous affairs with beautiful European women. I was in a daze the entire time, and barely heard a word the man said. My mind kept chanting: Jason just kissed you. It took a lot of self-control for me not to throw himself onto him. No, I would be cool and collected. I wasn't a teenager anymore; I wouldn't take risks on a relationship that was still shaky at the foundation.
When we finally stopped, Jason led me out, and I felt a slight wind toward my back as we entered a building.
"Surprise," he whispered as he drew away the cloth that covered my eyes. I found myself looking at an indoor soccer field. Kids around the age of ten were running around, and soccer balls were flying all over the place. I gasped, and turned to look at Jason, who was smiling brightly.
"Is this—the place you help out at?" I questioned.
"Yup," he concurred with a nod. "I'm one of the assistant coaches. I figured, hey, I loved soccer as a kid, and I played all the way up until college, so why not share my interest with others? I figured you may want to see me in action… and try it out yourself."
I laughed. "I can't play sports for my life."
"Ah—never say never, Janie." With that, he gave me a gentle push toward the children, who had gathered into one large crowd and were staring at us. "Hey kids," Jason called out, "come meet a new member of the team today."
"Is this your girlfriend, Coach Iverson?" asked a girl with brown curly hair.
"Nah, she's just an old friend," said Jason.
Of course I was just a friend. There was no need to become angry over a simple statement. Jason said we were friends. Wasn't that good enough?
"Do you play soccer, too?" asked a blonde boy.
I managed a smile, despite my inner turmoil over Jason's words. "No, I don't. I'm afraid I might be a little bad. But you guys will all help me get better, right?"
"Yeah!" they all chorused. The brunette girl offered me a toothy smile and said, "You can be the next Mia Hamm."
I refrained from snorting and kept my plastered smile intact instead. "Thank you. What's your name?"
"I'm Vicky," she replied. "And I like your hair. It's curly, just like mine."
"Nice to meet you, Vicky," I said, offering my hand to her. Surprisingly, she placed her smaller hand in mine and shook it firmly.
"My daddy taught me how to shake someone's hand properly," she explained to me, as if sensing my amazement.
"Good girl, Vicky," said Jason with a wink. "Now, who's ready to play some soccer?"
The twenty or so children surrounding the two of us cheered with enthusiasm. The head coach, a man around his fifties named Mike, greeted me warmly and began splitting the kids into two teams for a scrimmage.
"All right, Jane, you'll be on the red team, and Jason, you're on blue," said Mike, nodding toward our direction.
I faced Jason and raised my eyebrows. "Well, it looks like my team will be kicking your as—butts today," I corrected hastily, remembering that I was in the presence of pre-teens.
Jason grinned, obviously not missing my slip-up. "Oh, I'm not worried, honey."
"Are you sure Jane isn't your girlfriend, Coach?" insisted Vicky, her hands on her hips. "Because my dad calls my mom 'honey' all the time."
"All right, everyone, game time!" Mike shouted before Jason had a chance to reply. All of us threw on jerseys, and the game began when Mike blew the whistle.
Ten minutes later, I realized that my physical coordination had regressed significantly since high school, where I had been the star runner on the cross-country and track teams. Jason was a damn good player, although he didn't have much competition, as all the kids were about half his size. But what struck me most was his attitude toward the children—even the ones who were on the opposing team. When the smallest girl on my team had fallen down, he ordered a time-out and provided soothing words to the tearful girl. When Vicky, who was on my team, had scored a girl, he was alongside the red team, cheering her on. And I was actually having fun. Perhaps this was what I needed, instead of staying cooped up in my apartment all day or sorting books in the library. Sure, I still loved to read, and I loved my work at the library, but I had become anti-social ever since I graduated from college. Melanie was right, after all. I did need to get out more. And even though I spending my time kicking a ball around with a bunch of kids, I felt light and burden-free. I was young again. The best part of the game, perhaps, was when I scored the winning goal for my team. Red blurs circled around me, and I found myself swallowed up by numerous little arms.
"Jane, you're so awesome!" shouted Vicky. "You're, like, the coolest grown-up ever, besides Coach Iverson."
A few seconds later, an arm circled around my waist. Jason was grinning down at me. His hair was unruly and his face was covered in sweat, but to me, he had never looked so appealing as he did at that moment.
"Nice job, Janie," he said.
"You too," I responded, returning his smile. "And thanks."
"For what?" He wrinkled his brow.
"For taking me here. All of this felt… I don't know… right, I guess. I never knew how much fun a soccer game was. And you're great with kids."
"I should be the one thanking you, Jane," he said, his breath tickling my cheeks. "You've changed the world."
I frowned. "I have?"
"Yup. You've changed my world."
For a few seconds, I simply stared at him, processing the words he had just spoken. They sounded oddly familiar… and then I recognized that those were the same ones I had said to him that night I had gone out with Luke. My heart began beating rapidly, but found myself at loss for words. Instead, I wrapped my arms around Jason's body and snuggled into his chest, ignoring the fact that he was drenched in sweat. I felt warm and safe.
"Is he coming or what?" demanded Melanie, taking a sip of her champagne.
"He said he would be able to make it," I responded with a tense smile.
After Jason had taken me to the sports club, he disappeared once more. However, this time, he actually did have somewhere to go—he was going home to his family, who lived in Minnesota, and would be staying there until New Year's Eve. Before he left, though, he promised me that he would be able to come to the small party that I whipped up on New Year's Eve, consisting mostly of my friends from work and from the library. However, it was already eleven o'clock, and Jason was still nowhere in sight. I tried calling him, but I kept getting directed to the answering machine.
"Jane, honey, I know you care for Jason a lot, but I'm worried for you," said Melanie, placing her glass on the kitchen counter and looking around to ensure that no eavesdroppers were lurking. "He just randomly reappears in your life and seems to… well… take advantage of your generosity. He told you he quit his cushy job in D.C., but did he tell you what he plans to do now for a career? All you know is that he volunteers with kids at some sports place on the weekends. What if he's going to depend on you for financial support? You don't know this guy, Jane."
I stayed silent, processing the long string of words that Melanie had presented to me. She did have a point. Jason may have found his hobby, but he was still very much unemployed, as far as I was concerned. He claimed to have dumped everything related to politics, but how was I to know this for a fact? I wanted to think that Jason hadn't changed since the first day I met him, but we weren't crazy, hormonal-driven college kids anymore. There was a chance that he wasn't the same honest, driven guy he had been. After all, he had dabbled in politics—saying one thing, and then doing something entirely different. Could I really trust him? I remembered that my dad had told me back in high school that I should trust no one but my own immediate family, because even relatives were capable of cheating me out of my money.
"I'll talk to him," I said decidedly. "Don't worry, Mel—I'm not going to get hurt. I'll just talk to him about his future plans, that's all."
"And if he lies? He did admit to you that he had been a two-timing bastard. Politicians, in my opinion, are no good, and I know that you know that. Old habits die hard, you know."
"I know," I said, sighing heavily. "I'll just—" I never finished my sentence, though, because I heard a sharp rap on the door. I weaved through the various people scattered around my apartment, gave them brief and friendly greetings, and opened the door. And found myself facing a bouquet of sunflowers.
"Happy holidays," said Jason, handing the flowers to me. "I hope these are still your favorite flowers."
"They are," I assured him, stepping to the side to let him in. "Thank you."
"Wow, this party's hopping," he said, his eyes upon a drunk and babbling Emma leaning against Mark, who held a mixed expression of both exasperation and amusement upon his face. I finally had the courage to tell him a few days ago that I wasn't romantically interested in him and that I hoped we could stay friends. I knew my words were completely trite and meaningless, but Mark seemed to take it well and set his sights upon another co-worker, Emma, who was more than willing to return his attentions.
"Everyone's having fun, I think," I said absently and tucked in a strand of hair behind my ear. "Um, Jason? Can we talk somewhere quieter? I want to ask you something."
"Sure. Is everything okay?"
No, I thought. It's not okay. We're not okay. The fact that you show up whenever you feel like gracing me with your presence is not okay. Instead, I replied, "Um, yes. I just want some privacy from the ruckus."
I led him right outside the door of my bedroom. I considered going inside, but decided that I didn't want the guests, especially Melanie, to think that we were going to get down and do the dirty. I took a deep breath and asked, "Do you have a job?"
Jason seemed taken aback at my question. "Not yet. I've been looking around, though."
"So how are you paying the bills?"
"Well, I did earn money in my previous job, you know," he said, frowning. "What's with the questions? I'm an adult; I can handle these issues, Jane."
"Jason." I sighed. I was losing my nerve. He was clearly growing irritated, and the confrontation-averse aspect of me demanded that I stop questioning the poor guy and let him enjoy the party. But I knew that this was for my own sake, as well as for my sanity. When it came to Jason, I was already in too deep, and I needed to make sure that I knew who he really was before I lost myself completely. "How do I know that you're being honest with me?"
His eyes bugged. "What?"
"How do I know," I began, gaining more confidence, "that you aren't lying to me? I mean, you yourself admitted that you lied to people when you were doing your whole running for Senator thing."
"Janie—"
"I'm not done," I said sharply. I was on a roll, and I didn't care that I was missing out on my own party. I needed to get my feelings out into the open. "I've had these thoughts for a while, but every time you're with me, I can't be angry. I know that I told you I've forgiven you, and I have—mostly. But I just—I'm just so frustrated, because you just keep showing up randomly, act all nice and perfect, and then leave! How about letting me know what the hell is going on, huh? How do you I know that you aren't just using me for my money? Which, by the way, I don't have that much of, so if you want to rob me, you're better off going to Bill Gates—"
"I'm going to be a lawyer," he blurted out before I could finish my thought. "I'm going to make good use of that law degree I got."
"A lawyer," I said aloud. "Well. I could've guessed that. But why didn't you tell me before? You had me thinking that you were going to mooch off me!"
He exhaled slowly, and took my hands in his. "I wanted you to be proud of me, Jane, and I wanted to make sure that I secure a job before I could tell you."
This boy was ridiculous. "Jason, I'm your friend. I told you that I'd support you through this whole remodeling of your life."
His gray eyes were level with my brown ones. "Jane, you've become so accomplished. You have a great place, great friends, great job… you have everything. And look at me. After slaving through law school, I ended up taking advantage of good, honest, hard-working people. Now, I'm poor and aimless but trying to get on track. I didn't want to let you see this side of me, Jane. Remember how you used to tell me that I'd do great things one day? You seemed to have so much hope in me, and I didn't want to disappoint you. So I've sort of kept you in the dark on everything."
I tried to absorb this information. I knew that Jason was genuine from the way his eyes were focusing on my face with such intensity. But his logic was rather skewed. Friends did not avoid each other like the plague. "So, are we friends or not?" I demanded.
"I'd like to be," he responded quietly.
"Then let me in your life, Jason. Let me help and support you."
He sighed and nodded slowly. "All right."
I smiled. "Good. But you're wrong about something, though."
"Oh?"
"Yes. My life isn't as perfect as you might think."
"What? What's happened? Jane, if you need anything, you just tell me."
"No, not like that." I rolled my eyes. "I am happy, you know. Well, most of the time. But sometimes, I feel like my life is missing something. Sometimes, when I'm working or even just relaxing, I ask myself, 'What am I living for?' I'm not having suicidal thoughts or anything like that. I just—I feel like I'm not enjoying all the blessings that I've been given as much as I should be."
Jason placed his hand on the side of my face and inched closer to where I was standing. Behind him, I could see people glancing over at us with curious expressions. Melanie's eyes were wide and she was mouthing silently at me, pointing to the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace.
"Ten… nine… eight…" The chant began. My face felt warm from Jason's close proximity. "It's almost midnight," I murmured.
"Yes," he concurred. His eyes would not leave my face. "Do you have resolutions for the new year, Jane?"
"I—I guess I want to find my missing piece," I admitted. "It sounds pretentious and cliché, I know."
"I don't think so." His face was inches away from mine.
"What are you doing?" I questioned, my voice shaking.
"Three… two… one…" His lips met mine.
I felt safe and loved, with Jason's mouth moving over mine. And then I realized why I had never bothered dating much even after college. All this time, I had been subconsciously waiting for Jason—for him to come back to me, despite the fact that he had hurt me when he left without so much as a good-bye. I didn't know how Jason felt about me, but at this point, I didn't care—I just wanted to feel.
A few seconds later, Jason drew away from me, amidst cheers and wolf-whistles. Everyone was staring at us, and I saw Melanie give me a thumbs-up, a huge grin on her face. I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but burst into giggles. I had a sudden urge to bust a move and holler the words of "I'm Walking on Sunshine" on top of my lungs.
"I'm kind of in love with you," said Jason suddenly.
My mouth fell open at his declaration. Okay, so I admit to dreaming a few times about Jason announcing this sort of thing, but this was real. "You… what… are you sure?" I stumbled over my words.
Jason laughed shakily. "Um, yes. I've had a thing for you, for lack of a better term, since college. Of course, I was a stupid asshole and completed ruined our friendship, but I never forgot about you after those years apart."
I couldn't say a word. I wasn't sure if I loved him, but my feelings for him definitely did not fall into the friendly range, especially due to the occasional dreams I had with us as a couple. Those fantasies were definitely not PG-rated.
He noted my silence and sighed. "I'm sorry. I just thought—maybe I'd have a chance. But we can totally be friends after this. Just—we can forget this ever happened. Think of it as a friendly kiss at midnight to celebrate the New Year."
"You idiot. I can't say I love you just yet, but I damn well don't think of you as only a friend."
Now it was his turn to remain speechless. "Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously." I punched his arm playfully.
"So, am I the missing piece of your life?" he asked. He grinned, clearly joking.
"Actually, maybe you are," I said. "But we'll just have to find out, if you're willing to hang around long enough."
"Jane," he said, his voice scratchy and deep, "I'm willing to stay forever this time."
I smiled and drew him into a fierce embrace. "Thank you."
After a few more minutes of privacy, we decided to return the party, which, surprisingly, was still going strong. Apparently none of us were old enough yet to fall asleep after the clock struck twelve. My friends were congratulating me warmly, having witnessed our intimate moment, and Melanie pulled Jason over and told him that if he hurt me, she'd hunt him down with Dan as her assistant murderer. I found this amusing, considering the fact that Dan was about as intimidating as a newborn chick. Nonetheless, I appreciated her loyalty.
Jason wrapped an arm around my waist. "I don't think I've ever been this happy. This generous, beautiful, and brilliant girl that I've been crushing on since the first day I laid eyes on her has just admitted that she feels the same way."
"You flatterer." I rolled my eyes, although my heart was doing jumping jacks at his description.
"Come on," he begged. "Tell me why you like me. I complimented you, so now it's your turn."
I feigned a groan. "Fine. Let's see… you're intelligent, motivated, and loyal. Even though your stubborn ass is infuriating at times, I love and admire your focus in everything you do. I love the fact that you're so good with children. And I love the fact that you love me and that very shortly, I'll be able to say the same to you."
Jason kissed me gently. "I noticed that you didn't mention my good looks."
"You're okay," I said flippantly, but I wasn't about to inflate his ego even further by telling him that I thought he was the most attractive man I'd ever known—even more so than Ryan Reynolds and his ridiculously toned abs.
He growled. "I'm more than okay, and you know it." Then he proceeded to tickle me.
It was the early morning of New Year's Day, and I was encased in the expansive warmth of my cozy apartment and surrounded by friends and the potential love of my life. I no longer felt like something in my life was missing. I felt complete.
Wow. This is the longest one-shot I've ever written. I feel somewhat proud of myself lol. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this story just in time for the holidays! Although I guess it doesn't focus much on the holidays until the end, but whatever.
I'd like to thank my kick-ass beta, Just Silly Me, because puts up with my sentence fragments and extraneous commas :P
Happy holidays everyone! Please review with any comments or suggestions you may have. In my opinion, the ending was kind of... not so good, but oh well. I got too impatient and wanted to finish this thing up.